


Be Ready For The Curve Ball

by bloodscout



Series: 18 incredibly impressive ficlets written for the 18th birthday of the frighteningly fabulous fishoutofcustard [16]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brother Feels, Ficlet, Fluff, Gen, Snowball Fight, Team Free Will, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-18
Updated: 2013-01-18
Packaged: 2017-11-25 22:01:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/643406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodscout/pseuds/bloodscout
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>‘Do you want to go outside, Dean?’ Sam suggests, startling the older Winchester out of his drowsy contemplations.</p>
<p>Dean rubs at his eyes, and nods. ‘Yeah, Sammy, let’s go play in the snow.’ he says, like he hasn’t said in what feels like decades.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Be Ready For The Curve Ball

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lucie (fishoutofcustard)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Lucie+%28fishoutofcustard%29).



> This is the 16th fic of the 18 fics I wrote for [Lucie's](fishoutofcustard.tumblr.com) 18th birthday.

They reach Michigan along with the snow. Dean only has a few moments to cover his car up with the tarp and shove a blanket under the hood to stop the engine from freezing, and the three of them barrel into the hotel room. It’s warm, and they’re a little wet, so their coats are thrown in a pile near the door, where the promptly start to steam.

Cas and Sam start up a game of Uno, and Dean sits by the window, contemplating taking a nap. The drive was long, and he’s at that stage of tiredness where everything seems lax and round edged. There’s a park just out the back of the hotel, and the snow is falling in soft sheets on the ground. It muffles the sounds around them, cocooning the three of them in a warm room filled with friends – filled with family. He hasn’t felt this safe since… since…

‘Do you want to go outside, Dean?’ Sam suggests, startling the older Winchester out of his drowsy contemplations.

Dean rubs at his eyes, and nods. ‘Yeah, Sammy, let’s go play in the snow.’ he says, like he hasn’t said in what feels like decades.

 

In a strange turn of events, Castiel is the one who throws the first snowball. It hits Dean right between his shoulder blades, no doubt sticking to the fabric of his soft winter coat. Dean whips around, landing in attack stance out of habit. Castiel laughs, and Dean doesn’t think he’s ever hear that sound before. Then, Dean grins, and he’s bending down to shape a ball out of the snow before he realises what he’s doing. Castiel grins, and he runs, trenchcoat billowing behind him like wings. The snowballs, when they hit their target, look so clean and pure against the dirty tan of Castiel’s well-worn coat.

Sam catches on to what’s happening, and sets up a strategic home base. He’s always like this, calculating his games even when it’s not competitive. Dean used to think he was a weirdo, but Sam just finds fun in a challenge, often setting himself higher expectations than the task really requires. Now, Dean knows it’s just because Sam’s smart.

It’s because Sam’s smart that his frozen projectiles come out of nowhere. One hits Cas in the head, fluffy snow falling over his shoulders and catching in his hair. The angel cries out in delight when he feels some of the coldness slip down his shirt and onto his unprotected skin.

Dean doesn’t have time to find Sam’s hiding spot before he’s his square in the face. It sends him off balance, and then Castiel catches him in the stomach.

‘I’m being attacked by nerds!’ Dean protests, but he’s grinning, even though he’s losing.

Cas and Dean silently agree on a temporary truce and head out to look for Sam. The younger Winchester is particularly good at hiding, considering his winter jacket is bright blue, and his beanie is moss green.

They find him in a digout, and he rolls over onto his back like a puppy expecting scratches when they catch him. They all fall onto the ground after that, laughing so hard their knees go weak.

Sam makes lazy snow angels, and Castiel transfixed, until Sam shows Cas how to do it too, his arms making slow arks in the whiteness.

Dean watches them both, and he remembers the day when school had been called off because of the snow. The two of them had gone to the park for the day and done just this, snowball fights and ice angels. At the end of the day, Sam had tackled him into a hug and fiercely declared ‘I wish every day was snow day, Dean. Snow days are the best.’


End file.
